THE PATH


“The Road is rough,” I said. “Dear Lord, there are stones that hurt me so.”

And He said, “Dear child, I understand. I walked it long ago.”

“But there is a cool green path,” I said. “Let me walk there for a time.”

“No, child,” He gently answered me. “The green road does not climb.”

“My burden,” I said, “is far too great. How can I bear it so?”

“My child,” said He, “I remember its weight. I carried my cross, you know.”

“I wish there were some friends with me who would make my way their own.”

“Oh yes,” He said, “Gethsemane was hard to face all alone.”

And so I climbed the stony path, content at last to know

That where the Savior had not gone, I would not need to go.

And strangely then I found new friends; the burden grew less sore,

As I remembered long ago, He went that way before. (Anonymous)

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